Broken
by US Rock Star
Summary: They say it's easier to mend a broken bone, then it is a broken heart. They are right. BashSlash.
1. Hockey practice can kill you

I was reliving the dance in my dreams for the past three weeks. I saw everything, every touch, every move, every noise every smell and every kiss. Suddenly, I was forcefully torn from my dream by the irritable buzz of the alarm clock on my left. I quickly groped for the alarm clock hoping to turn it off before Portman woke up. After a few seconds of blindly fiddling around with the plastic clock on the nightstand I managed to shut it off. Unfortunately, I had only managed to hit the snooze button, only to have it come on again ten minutes later. Frustrated I yanked the plug disconnecting it from the wall.  
I yawned and rolled over cautiously attempting not to fall off the cramped twin bed Portman were sharing I smiled contently as Portman's arm snakes itself around my waist.  
"Are you awake, babe?" He asked softly, his breathe caressing my face.  
"uh huh..." I muttered not fully paying attention. He sighed and let go of me.  
"Dude, you have to wake up." He said sliding out from next to me. I pulled the blanket tighter around me trying to regain some of the warmth Portman took with him. I heard him chuckle slightly before I heard him shuffle into the bathroom closing the door softly. I listened to the shower rhythmically pounding the shower tiles, I could tell by the way the water changed rhythm and hit unevenly in new areas that he had stepped in. After about ten minutes I heard the water turn off and some rustling around in the bathroom. He eventually came out and the steam of his shower drifted around the room. Portman walked over to the bed and I could smell his cologne, it smelled good. He shook me slightly.  
"Fulton, get your ass up, we have practice in 30 minutes." He told me.

"So?" I asked half awake.  
"We have to be out of here in twenty minutes." He stated. I shrugged  
slightly.  
"So?" I challenged again.

"you need a shower." He said. My eyes slowly opened.  
"Are you implying I smell?" I asked him in false outrage. I rolled over to look at him. He smirked.  
"No dude, I'm not implying nothing, I'm sayin you reek, Reed." He said. I stuck my tongue out him and playfully swung at him. He dodged and I clumsily fell out of the bed, He laughed.  
"Gee, I feel the love." I said as he helped me off the ground. He waited till I was standing in front of him before replying.  
"You should its there, Fult." He said as he kissed me. I smirked as I pulled away. "Obviously it is." I tell him before heading into the shower. After about 15 minutes I was out of the shower and ready to go. Portman and I grabbed are stuff and started walking to the rink. When we got there everyone but Charlie, Averman and Goldberg were there which is typical there usually about ten minutes late. After we all changed into our gear we headed to the ice and waited for our missing teammates. We basically just skated around the rink until they showed up like we had thought, ten minutes later.

"Hey Charlie, you're late!" Orion barked.

"Technically, because you were expecting us to show up at this time doesn't that make us on time?" Averman asked from behind Charlie. I could her the coach sigh before telling us what to do.

"30 minute scrimmage, on team one is Charlie, Guy, Connie, Fulton, Averman, with Goldberg as there Goalie. On team two is Adam, Ken, Luis, Portman and Russ with Julie as goaltender. Due to the odd numbering Dwayne will play as alternate." We played until the thirty minutes were up and it ended with a tie. We did drills for another hour and a half after that then we all retreated to the locker rooms.


	2. Dear Sweet Emma

Portman's POV  
  
"I hurt." I sigh, dropping my gear bag to the ground near Fulton's as I exit the locker room. My boyfriend laughs, leaning against the wall near the door where he's been waiting for me. "Awwww, poor baby."  
I scowl and stick my tongue out at him. He says something along the lines of maybe later and its all down hill from here.  
"What makes you think I want anything to do with you?" I tease, crossing my arms across my chest.  
"Oh, I see how it is. You don't love me anymore." Fult grabs his bag, tosses it over his shoulder and starts to walk off. I stand there for a second, laughing an looking after him, before realizing I must look like a complete jack ass. I gather up my stuff and left the rink. In the distance I see a small spec of red, between a large dark dot and a larger blonde dot. This sort of sight is normally always the same. Fulton's friend Emma has pissed off someone and he's trying to smooth things over.  
I amble over the grass slowly and arrive at the group in time to see Fulton toss Em over his shoulder and walk away. This time the person she'd chosen to start with is Mike Grayson from the football team. The dude is huge. He could've eaten her.  
"What the Crimson Creeper do this time?" I ask walking over to Mike. The full back just laughs. "She got all pissy because I called Kory Montel, a deaf, dyke, bitch."  
I blink. "You're kidding right?"  
"No."  
Without thinking, my fist collides with Mike's jaw and I walk away. Now I don't like Emma, in fact, I hate her. But her girlfriend Kory is one of the sweetest people I know. Not to mention that calling anyone by a slanderous name because of their sexuality pisses me off. When I get back to my room, Fulton has pinned Emily to the bed to keep her from running back out and attacking Mike. The tiny redhead is so seething with anger; my boyfriend is struggling to hold her down.  
"Lemme go bastard must die!" She yells, kicking him in the leg. Fult winces and rubs his shin. "Damn it Emily, calm down already."  
Uh-oh, he called her Emily. This is not good, she's going to kill him rather then Mike. Then I'll have to find a new boyfriend and it'll just be a totally unnecessary hassle. Therefore, I must intervene before she slaughters him.  
"Hey Em, why don't you go check on Kory. I bet she's real upset right now."  
She thinks on it for minute before nodding and leaving. I don't understand those two at all. They have little to nothing in common. Kory's quiet and calm and bubbly and sweet, Emily isn't. But still they're so committed to one another it's almost sickening.  
"How's your leg?" I ask flopping onto my bed, hearing it crack as my large body hits it.  
"It's good. She didn't kick that hard." He replies, sitting beside me. He then scowls. "You hit him didn't you?"  
"No, why?"  
"You're knuckles are red."  
Busted, curses. He knows me far too well.  
"Ok, I didn't hit him hard."  
He laughs and leans over to kiss me. I grin back and welcome the kiss, reaching up to turn off the light.  



End file.
